Moonshine
by An4rchicpe4ce
Summary: Taking a break from the League of Legends, Diana returns to her old hometown just in time to realise that time is running out for one of the most important quests in her tribe's history. Will she be able to make it in time to hand the moonstone over? Worse yet, where is it?
1. Chapter 1

A sudden flare of blue light, and a figure materialised. Her head was first to arrive, followed by her torso, hands, and hips. Her legs were the last to arrive, but finally touched moss-covered stone. A light breeze swept across her pale, flat cheeks, as she appeared, with a mesmerising baby blue glow to her body. The glow slowly faded, down to her fingertips. The last strains of summoning magic had left her mind blissfully uninterrupted.

Diana, standing stiffly at the Fountain, wasn't particularly happy with this arrangement. She had originally planned to sleep in, all thanks to last night's long and tiring match where a certain Tryndamere refused to die beneath her feet. Even though she won that match (against a rather disgruntled barbarian king who wasn't happy he lost), she was dead beat and nearly fell asleep on the summoning platform. It was 3 in the morning, for Valoran's sake! She barely had enough energy to push herself on the balls of her feet, eyelids heavily drooping, across the soft carpet, and splay across the comfortable sheets in an undignified position. And it was barely an hour after sunrise where her deep, untroubled sleep was rudely ended with a voice intruding into her head.

_"Rise and shine, Diana, you've got a long day ahead of you,"_ her summoner, a young Demacian girl, Yiqa murmured gently. Still, the soft tone was enough to startle Diana, who sat up instinctively, her hand grasping her razor-sharp scythe, as if preparing for an ambush.

_"I hope I didn't startle you...,"_ Yiqa added sheepishly, apparently having sensed Diana's shock, which turned into displeasure. The exhausted champion had barely enough time to rub her eyes which had swollen shut with sleep, before tendrils, blue with the imbued power of summoning magic, grappled at her limp arms, hanging on to her weapon, and yanked her onto the summoning platform.

_"Welcome to Summoners' Rift!"_ The booming voice of the announcer rolled across the field, snapping Diana from her stupor, bringing her back to the present. She looked through her eyes, now watery from yawning, and found herself too close for comfort with another champion.

"Wakey wakey, moon girl. Time to put on a show," said the voice, with just a hint of annoyance and patronisation. She recognised the voice before she could see the one who made it. Her eyes, brimming with tears, soon came into focus on the female face in front of her.

"Get your own acts together first before you comment on someone else, floral bitch," Diana muttered under her breath as she tried, to no avail, to hold back another yawn. Zyra's brow furrowed heavily, her eyes burning. The red shoot she saw curling lazily around her forearm a few moments ago now strained against itself, wanting to wrap its vines around Diana and throttle her white, fragile neck. Diana shot a fierce glance in her direction, retaliating.

"Newcomers, can we hold the childish little staring match later? We've got a battle to fight here! Stop being such wusses and pull yourselves together!" Diana turned in the speaker's direction and groaned inwardly. Veterans. Katarina was not known for her patience and friendliness. The avid, redhead killer had made absolutely no effort to cover up the condescension in her voice at all, and was staring harshly at Diana and Zyra.

Stretching her torso, she turned around to find Xin Zhao and Malphite, both with amusement hanging on their lips. Giving each of them in turn a stare, she groggily woke up to what the morning brought. Buying her items from the shopkeeper and stashing it into her satchel, she ran, without a backward glance, out of her base. Her hands brushed past the Nexus, a thrumming crystal, which was their hive of magical potency that had to be protected. Protect it, or die trying.

She ran out of the stony walls that surrounded her base, and into the depths of the jungle. It was cooler and darker here, and the air held a mysteriousness that soothed her agitated feelings. Her long, pale fingers ran over the bushes that surrounded her, her boots sank into the brown earth, soft with rain. She took in lungfuls of fresh, crisp morning air as she settled next to a bonfire, scythe in hand, waiting for what she knew would come next. She counted down in her mind, the final seconds before the start.

_"Minions have spawned!"_

Without fail, seconds later, a trio of wolves appeared. She hacked at their leader with her scythe, and heard the satisfying shriek of metal against bone. The sharp blade of her weapon sunk into wolf flesh as easily as a knife into soft butter, and she was enjoying every moment of it. The crescent atop her scythe glowed pearly-white with the seconds strike, and so did she; on the third strike, the crescent unleashed its power, channelling its energy into a crescent-shaped flash that affected the other two wolves. As she felt the wolves trying to bite her, her summoner knee what to do. As soon as she thought it, three translucent, yellow spheres appeared and rotated around her. She could see the expressions of pain on the faces of the pack of wolves as the glowing orbs slammed into their bodies in a big flash. A shield appeared, protecting her from further harm from the wolves, clawing mindlessly but unable to hurt her. A few more slices, and the wolves lay in pieces at her feet, and the gold stashed neatly in her pocket.

She pressed on, with a larger target in mind. She saw Xin Zhao engaging a huge slab of rock in a fight, albeit the fact that the rock retaliated by slamming on him with fists the size of her own head. Xin Zhao knocked the golem up into the air. Recognising her cue, she stepped forward, giving him a silent word of thanks as she stepped in to meet the creature. Channelling the energy of her blade, she cleaved the ground with her scythe, cutting into the soil, sending a bright crescent appearing in front of her. The killing went without a hitch, when Diana conjured her orbs and her shield once more, and struck the golem down.

Soon, a jangling noise coming from her bulging pocket could be heard when she strutted around the jungle, killing every creature she saw. Soon, the crescent on her forehead glowed with energy, and she knew it was time to make her move. Her fatigue completely gone, she crouched down in one of the brushes, and saw her ally Xin Zhao trying his best to hold off two of his enemies. Jax foolishly wandered too close to the seneschal, and Diana watched in admiration as her ally perfectly executed his assault on Jax. Darius stepped in, but it was too late for the Noxian as Xin Zhao swung his pole, hitting Jax right in the chest and striking a killing blow.

_"First Blood!"_ The announcer took her time, drawling on each syllable.

Darius, infuriated at his ally's sudden demise, swung his humongous axe out such that it hit Xin Zhao in the chest, leaving a blood trail. Swinging his axe around his head, he inflicted another wound. The now bloodstained axe hooked the Demacian to the Noxian, who mercilessly took another swing. The Demacian was now bleeding profusely from his torso, and Diana decided that enough was enough. She stepped out of the brush, and instantly, a crescent shot out of her blade, igniting the floor with white light. Darius was illuminated for a second, shocked at the rapid turn of events, before Diana dashed to her. Darius's fearful face, made even more pale by the glow on his assailant's forehead. Seeing that the tables had turned, the seneschal made his move. Valiantly, he stepped up and prodded the axeman, with the third strike knocking him, his axe and all into the air. Darius, now bleeding as well, tried to make his escape move, when Diana smashed the tip of the scythe into the soil. The ground flashed blindingly white, and Darius was pulled back to Diana, whom summoner was quick on the uptake. The three glowing orbs orbited around her torso once more, damaging Darius. One last crescent, and the Hand of Noxus slumped to the ground, defeated and dead. "You have slain an enemy," thundered the announcer. The crescent of her scar shone white as the feeling filled her with pride, and a smile crept onto her face. The hunt was on.

_"Nice one."_ Yiqa invaded her thoughts once more, but this time it wasn't an unwelcome sensation.

The enemy team had completely thrown the game with their incorrigible performance. Or, perhaps it was just the stellar performance of the team of five. The enemy did not put up a fight after their first few deaths. Boosting the confidence of Diana and her allies, turret after turret fell to relentless attacks. As Diana stepped over the dead body of Vayne in her cloak, still clutching her crossbow, her scythe sliced and diced at the foundations of the crystal that held the enemy together. Katarina finished off Darius (an act that did not hold much appeal to her as opposed to her violence-prioritised mindset), and stepped forward to join the rest of the team in bringing down the shimmering crystal. A few moments later, with a sudden finality, the crystal exploded with a wave of heat, into a million shards that littered the floor.

This game was just too easy.

Returning to their summoning platforms, the winning team, soaked in blood, congratulated each other on their superb win, while the losing team were victim to jeers from onlookers, and could only cast sour glances at each other.

"Well done, everyone!" For once, Diana was not feeling antagonistic to be with her fellow teammates; the feeling surprised even herself. However, a barely repressed snigger from behind her snapped her instantly out of her bubbly, cheerful mood. Her crescent began to glow softly and dangerously, and she turned around to see a Zyra with a hand clamped against her mouth, her shoulders shaking softly.

"Well done, except for you, maybe?" She gave a pointed glance at her, and started shaking again, clearly amused. Katarina turned away, clearly disapproving of this little skirmish, and turned to an abashed Darius. Zyra's eyes taunted Diana across the altar, trying to agitate her into action.

That was the limit for her. Diana dashed to her in a blink of an eye, making Zyra recoil in shock. She gasped in horror as Diana threw her scythe around her slender waist, pulling her to her. Her widened, glassy eyes caught the reflection of the crescent, which was glowing with a piercing brightness. The fury in Diana's eyes was not lost on her as she locked eyes with Zyra.

"Scum. You didn't even help in the battle. You just stood there and watched us wound the enemy, and stroll right in to pick up kills," Diana muttered in a carrying whisper, her voice echoing through the surprisingly still room. You could hear a pin drop on the floor. The whole summoning hall, almost bursting with spectators, summoners and champions alike, was riveted on the pair. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Katarina and Darius, previously engaged in conversation, looking at her. The champions at the side of the hall were looking thirsty for some action out of game, and had to suppress their urges to chant for the pair to fight.

Zyra, having lost her face and demeanour to the crowd, wilted under her gaze, and a shudder passed involuntarily through her body. Diana, feeling disgusted at having to shout at worthless beings, withdrew her weapon and violently pushed her away. Zyra slunk away into the recesses of the hall shamefacedly, looking on the verge of tears. Likewise, Diana stalked away from the summoning platform, planning to catch a few winks. The bloodthirsty crowd, having seen that the tension had dissipated, returned to their normal activities.

The chatter built up in the hall once more, as Diana felt a restraining hand placed on her left forearm. She spun on the balls of her feet, her white flowing hair swishing around, and met Katarina's glare.

"What is it now-"

Katarina interrupted mid-sentence. "You don't have a right to threaten others at all, Scorn of the Moon. So don't you play the arrogant card on me." Her cheeks were flushed with anger, and she tried to calm herself down by taking deep breaths. "OK. It was completely uncalled for to launch an attack on Zyra at all. And she did help in the game, so the discrediting was unjustified."

Diana, sick of being lectured, turned around and strode off. Katarina, wanting to get her point across, kept pace while passionately reprimanding her.

"Did you see her face when she scurried out of the hall? I wouldn't be surprised if she were crying in her room," Katarina stated.

"Like you care in the first place."

"Of course I do, as a-"

"Fuck you, hypocrite." Diana slammed her scythe into the ground and rounded on a Katarina who was taken aback. No one ever spoke to her that way and lived to see the day. Her eyes narrowed to slits. "It'd do you good to learn some poise, too."

"Fuck poise."

This time, Katarina dashed to Diana, her cheeks flushed once more in anger that she no longer bothered to conceal. Diana dropped her scythe in shock as Katarina slid a long, curved ornate dagger under her pale throat. She ran the sharp blade across her neck gently, making the slightest of incisions. Another quick hit to the knees, and Diana was kneeling on the floor, her hand bent backward in a tight grip. Katarina strode in front of her and unsheathed a curved sword from her back with a flourish. She pointed the tip straight at her nose, forcing her back, herding her into a deserted corner.

"No one ever talks to me like that. Especially not when I'm trying, for once, to be nice and help them." Katarina threw the dagger at a stunned Diana, and the dagger sunk neatly into the wall above her shoulder, less than an inch away from her neck. "Don't ever think of crossing me twice, bitch. I've killed a hundred more times than you. If you show even a bit of such disrespect to me ever again, just a little bit, say, I'll make sure something... unpleasant happens. You wouldn't want that, would you?" Malice dripped from every syllable she uttered. She casually flicked her sword upwards, slicing a tuft of white hair as it passed to make her point. Her deep-set eyes, smouldering with hatred locked with Diana's, and the latter flinched. Diana could almost see the steam coming out from her orifices.

A quick movement, and another blade appeared out of nowhere. The two clanged against each other in a cross, and slid next to the tender part of skin near her pulsing veins. Diana looked down to see her frightened eyes reflected from Katarina's highly polished, sharpened blades. "How easy it would be for me to snap the blades together. You had better damn well make sure I don't do so to you," she threatened. Plucking her blade out of the wall, she slid the blades back into their sheathes and vanished in a small puff of smoke.

Getting her wits back, she steadied herself back onto her feet and grabbed her scythe. Heading for her room, a shiver ran down her spine as she recalled the close encounter she just had with the murderous mad woman. Suddenly, a voice which was not her own popped into her head.

_"I saw all that,"_ Yiqa commented passively. _"Doesn't seem like your style to not fight back there."_

She groaned. Word of her failed confrontation was going to spread like wildfire from her pair of loose lips. In frustration, she cradled her head and squeezed it tightly. Was there a way to keep her thoughts to herself? Without having peeping Toms nestling in her brain?

_"No more summoning now, Yiqa. I'm going to sleep. No buts,"_ she added quickly, feeling that a retort was coming on the way.

Throwing open the door to her dark room, she bolted it behind her, plunging herself into relative darkness. Lunar runes glowed gently the colour of the moon as she took off her grey-plated armour, revealing a simple cloth tunic underneath. Laying the pieces into a trunk, she snapped it shut and kept it in her wardrobe. Dropping the scythe next to her bed, she settled in amongst the soft linen sheets, blissfully cool against her skin. Within moments, her mind spiralled into the dark, peaceful abyss of unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

A blinding, pulsating grey light pierced through her eyelids, rudely waking her once more. Damn Yiqa, she thought at first, misinterpreting the light for the powerful summoning magic. Opening her eyes, however, she found the light came from beneath her, next to her bed. Rolling over groggily, she noticed that the light came from her scythe, which at closer inspection seemed to have turned purest white. One hand shielding her eyes from the glare, she picked up her weapon with the other.

It felt as if she had been electrocuted. Stunned, unable to move as the pulsating essence from her scythe ran through her arm and up into her brain, which was suddenly flooded with a stream of correlated images.

_Mount Gargantuan, in all its regal beauty and elegance. The peaks of the mountain that went high up into the sky, losing itself in a shroud of clouds. The logo of the Iron Solari. The house where she lived in. Faces, from long ago. Her parents. The elders. Leona, when she was a teenager. Secret trips with her to secluded parts of the mountain. Entering a cave filled to the brim with dusty tomes. Donning the lunar armour. And the image of the crescent encircling a circle, everywhere, on her forehead, gouged into the walls of the cave, on sand drawings made on a beach when she was a child, on the relics that she took out of the cave, glowing in the darkness._

And the visions ended. Diana stood up, feeling dizzy and disconcerted, with that last image still ingrained in her mind. She shook her head from side to side, clearing her thoughts. Touching her matted, tousled hair that came in lumps and knots, she decided that the first thing she needed was a nice long shower. Stripping down, she stopped into the shower unit, and lukewarm water pounded on her scalp, flowing down her bare back. The water cascaded down her bloodstained forearms, washing the free of blood. A pale crimson puddle formed on the floor, in contrast to the white marble tiles. As the last trickles of water came out from the shower head, a cloud of steam swirled around her legs, swathing her form as she emerged, dripping wet. Her hands moved to comb her tangled hair, smoothing it out. Looking at her reflection in the gilded mirror, she scrubbed the last of the gore from her pale fingers, before slipping them into her thick iron gauntlets laid on a shelf. Flexing her stiff digits, she turned the doorknob into relatively dim lighting.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she noticed that streaks of red were smeared on the sheets. Revolted, she flipped them off her bed, landing on a heap on the floor. Much better. Striding towards the heavily tinted windows, she threw them wide open, inhaling deep breaths of evening air. The last rays of the sun shone on the clouds, turning them deep orange. The warm breeze felt like a cool wind on her unnaturally hot skin that identified her as a member of the Solari. Pulling a couch next to the window, she plunked down, head on her hands, elbows on the veranda banister, mind drifting as she looked out from the window at the magnificent view. Squinting her eyes, she could make out Mount Gargantuan in the distance, with its head still stuck amongst the clouds.

Her stomach made a sudden growling noise, and she stood up. It was high time for her to eat something. As she closed the windows and walked out of the room, she noticed that the first trace of night appeared with a pale, hazy moon and the first scatter of stars.

The door swung quietly on its well-oiled hinges, shutting with a soft click. Her boots shuffled quietly against the wall-to-wall carpet in the corridor. Katarina's threat completely forgotten, she set off, mind preoccupied with her visions. _What did those visions mean? Pointing to Mount Gargantuan... does it mean that I will be able to find answers there? What do these visions have to do with me? Would the answers be found in those rotting tomes? In the relics?_ Her instincts told her that it had something to do with her old hometown, and that's where she intended to head to, soon.

_"Interesting,"_ a voice piped up. _"Perhaps you could show me there one day?"_

"Yiqa," she growled under her breath, exhaling the word as if it were an expletive. _"Over my dead body,"_ she replied forcefully.

_"Well, it shouldn't be too long from now, then, at the rate you're going. Seeya soon!"_ Yiqa disappeared into the recesses of her mind.

Cocky assholes.

Returning to her train of thoughts, she tried to recall the last time, or more accurately, the first time she had a vision. The memory was vague, a blur in her mind, but she concentrated on it, filling the gaps in her memory with supposition, until a completed jigsaw puzzle emerged into her mind. Closing her eyes, she tried to relive the experience.

_Diana's efforts had paid off. With a grunt, her bony hands, gripping uneven rock, slit her hands into a gap and heaved against the stone that threatened to crush her. With an air of finality, the boulder lurched over the narrow stone edge and down a cliff. She could hear it rumble down the steep, lethal slopes of the mountain behind her, finally coming to a rest with a booming crash on hot sand. Any human, she knew, couldn't have made the same journey down without certain death. If the irregularly-shaped parts of the cliff didn't break all your ribs, the hard, unforgiving sand surely would. With extreme care, Diana placed one sore foot after the other, shuffling along the narrow ledge, hands gripping the slope on her left for support. The few small steps she took couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but yet it felt as if hours had passed. She desperately needed to feel her feet on land. Real land, not this terrifying ledge. _

_Her outstretched hands, groping for stone as handholds, could feel nothing more, as if she were to turn a very sharp corner. Knees shaking with fear, she inched across the corner, only to find an impenetrable darkness. For some reason, her mind connected this darkness not with the hundreds of hours locked up in dank, dark dungeons underneath the Solari temple, but with the darkness of the night sky that she had stared a countless number of times. Bolstering her resolve, she reminded herself for the hundredth time, what she was doing on a precarious ledge on the higher levels of Mount Gargantuan. Walking with a newfound confidence, she gently lowered her legs into the gaping hole, feeling how deep it was. She was surprised and rather pleased to find that the entrance of the cave was only at her waist. The rest of her body slid into the darkness._

_Her irises naturally widened to accommodate the lack of light. The cave smelled musty, as if it hadn't been touched for a while, which it hadn't. Squinting into the darkness, she took even strides forward into the heart of the cave. The entrance illuminated a small part of the cave - the afternoon sun only illuminated the cave a few steps in front of her. Hands in front of her, she ventured forward. It seemed like a only a few moments when her fingers touched slippery rock covered in cobwebs. Looking back, she could barely make out the entrance of the cave, which was a bright hole about the size of her fist. Her eyes could now finally make out the interiors of the cave. The shape of the cave was roughly like a long rectangle, like the long dining table in the Solari temple. Having walked the length of the cave, she must have walked for quite a while, but she didn't feel the slightest bit of fatigue. Looking towards the entrance, she could make out a few faint, glowing shapes plastered on the walls. Walking towards the nearest one, her hands touched it, trying to wipe the dust off. Rubbing the object underneath her fingers, she saw a white pallor underneath all the dust and whatnot. After scrubbing every last bit of grime away, she took a few steps back and saw that the odd-looking object was a crescent surrounding a circle. The ancient object, relieved of its dirt, looked as if it could have been placed there yesterday. Its white glow illuminated everything within a few paces of it. Below the object, she noticed a small statue, the length of her forearm, standing upright on a small pedestal. Rubbing away the dust on this one, she noticed that the statue in her hands was also faintly glowing, illuminating her figure, kneeling on the floor. The statue looked like a male soldier that had don tens of pounds of armour and holding a deadly axe with a crescent blade to it. Waddling on her knees to the next pedestal, she picked up the statue, and freeing it of dust, took a good look at it. This one was a slim female, donning similar armour, and carrying a large, crescent scythe. The scowl on her face was similar to her male counterpart. On the both of them, inscribed on their foreheads was the sign she had saw hanging on the wall - the crescent and the circle. Her long, flowing hair was secured with three thick hairbands, and her eyes were lined with a dark substance. Setting down the female statue on her pedestal, she approached the end of the cave with a mixture of excitement and apprehension in her heart._

_Her feet, accustomed to the gentle declination of the floor, struck a small ledge. Raising her legs above the ledge, she realised that it was a large pedestal that acted as a staircase. Mentally comparing the minuscule pedestals she saw just now as compared to this one, she could barely imagine how big this statue must be. Her predictions were correct, as a figure slowly loomed in front of her. The statue was enormous; she couldn't even see where it ended. Her finger instinctively reached out to wipe away a streak of grime, but as she did so, a resonant hum rang through the chamber. Her finger touched the enormous statue, and it trembled under her fingers before exploding in a sudden rush of white light. Her finger was paralysed, and so was she, as she couldn't even close her eyelids to shut out the glare. She felt a gush of energy rushing up from the statue, passing through her finger, gushing up into her forehead, into every corner of her brain. All of a sudden, she wasn't looking at the smooth, glistening surface of the huge statue. Her brain was flooded with a stream of images, pictures that were not her own. _

_A huge burst of yellow light. Figures donning grey armour being beat down by figures clad in bright yellow, as bright as the sun. Blood spilling out from the grey soldiers as the yellow ones advanced relentlessly, herding them off. The last of the grey soldiers retreating to their remaining safe haven. Taking off their armour and laying it next to a huge statue. Jumping off a cliff into oblivion. And the symbol, the crescent and circle, flashing everywhere. A picture of herself wearing the armour that the female soldiers had worn. Standing in front of the Solari elders. Confronting them._

_Diana keeled over, lying flat on her back, staring up at the shining statue, emitting a pearly-white hue that enveloped her being in the light. She felt dizzy and nauseated, her head pounding. She closed her eyes, warding off the bright light, and crushed her head with her hands, trying to drive the pain out. After a while, her head stopped spinning, and her hands loosened their grip. No quick movements, she told herself as she picked herself up from the ground. The ground gave an alarming sway and she dug her feet onto the floor, hands on the statue for support. Once her nausea had gone away, she turned her head slowly, to get a full view of the cavernous chamber. She had a brief sensation of deja vu, realising that this chamber was carved exactly like the main hall of the Solari temple, complete with niches inlaid with symbols and statues of soldiers, each painting a piece of history. There she was, standing on the pedestal, which in the temple would have been the rich colour of gold. And there should be the Solari guardians and their armour, or at least the equivalent, she thought. Looking around, she spotted male and female statues with the grey armour on their bodies. Walking up to a female soldier, she stripped its armour and placed it on herself, as if she knew this was going to happen all along. She slid her hair into the hairbands, realising with a shock that her hair was now purest white. As she grasped the handle of the aged, rusty scythe, it glowed beneath her fingers momentarily, erasing all traces of wear and tear. _

_A chorus of whispers echoed in her head. _"You... The saviour of the Lunari now ... You are our last hope..."

_As the echoes faded, her legs carried her to the wall in between two niches in which she picked up the male statue. She picked up the piece of crescent and circle, and stuffed it into a sack. She then picked up the two statues, and placed them in the sack too. Then, she walked into the niche, stopping in front of a pile of dusty, heavy tomes. As she ran a gauntleted finger across its ornately decorated spine, a voice whispered into her ear. _"Our history."_ She stuffed the topmost book into the sack, bulging with artefacts, and strode past the rest of the niches, towards the sunlit entrance, her mind brimming with information for, or rather, against the Solari. She smiled as she walked out of the darkness, with confidence as she trembled with excitement, wondering what the elders would say. Sunlight embraced her face as she walked past the ledge, away from the obscure cave of this mountain, down a path which would lead her home, and of course, back to the Solari temple._

"Hey, watch where you're going, lady!" A smooth male voice interrupted her thoughts, ending her mental recount. Her eyes flew open, and there she was on the staircase, her feet on unevenly cut stone, one hand on the smooth banister, her nose inches away from Ezreal's, who was blocking her way. She locked eyes with him, and after a tense moment or two, he stepped aside, casting a backward glance at her. She continued descending the circular stairwell, towards the dining hall where hopefully, she could regain her energy to find answers. Her stomach grumbled impatiently.


	3. Chapter 3

Taking a left turn at the next flight of steps, she strode right into the heart of the cavernous dining hall. The hall's high ceilings, many pillars and arched beams seemed to accentuate the blue and red hangings that were draped from them. A hundred smells assaulted her nose at once, but she didn't react at all. Picking up a silver platter, she randomly grabbed food with her hands and stuffed them unceremoniously onto her plate. She had other things in mind, but she definitely couldn't concentrate right now, not with all these people making so much noise. Glaring at the crowd in general, she spotted the Demacian group, with Lux squeezed in between Garen and Jarvan the Fourth, chatting away happily, as well as a hyped-up Katarina talking to a bloodthirsty Darius playing with his axe. She also spotted certain benches that looked as if they were covered in purple cloth from afar, but actually were the robes of summoners with their purple robes huddling together, talking in soft murmurs. One of those summoners looked directly at her, unfazed by her glare, and waved at her. Diana saw a flash of purple hair and blue eyes. Yiqa.

Trying to get away from the hustle of the hall, Diana walked as far as she could. Soon, Diana was strolling lazily past the huge limestone pillars, no longer adorned with Demacian or Noxian banners or filled with chatter of the cafeteria. The voices, some rough and rowdy, some soft and murmuring faded into the background, echoing gently against the cavernous walls of the hall. The soles of her metallic heels clicked loudly against the marble floor, causing heads to turn in her direction. Ignoring Morgana who was waving energetically at her, she moved a few more tables down a deserted aisle. Passing by Amumu who gave her a hopeful glance before sobbing, as usual, onto his plate, she sat down, gazing out from the open window in front of her. Moonlight streamed in, casting its pale light on her white face, creating shadows on the sides of it. She randomly stabbed her fork and placed the mouthfuls of morsels into her mouth without really thinking. Her mind was like a piece of driftwood in the open sea, floating meaninglessly.

To be frank, she was tired, and she knew it. There was only so much that one could take from killing people mindlessly for the perverse pleasure of entertaining others who didn't have the guts to do the deed themselves. What she needed was a long, long vacation, and some fresh mountain air. Not this horribly stale air laced with pheromones and the perpetual stink of blood that none of the best janitors managed to clear out. No, a vacation was what she needed, not more killing. _At the same time_, thought Diana, trying to reason with her unwilling mind,_ I may be able to find answers to the visions, don't you think?_ _Rather obviously, since the visions point there, what's there to debate about? It's irrefutable, completely._ Perhaps her mind was just confused previously, or she simply thought that the truth would not be that simple. She frowned, internally, at the persona in her head.

"_A battle in one's head usually means that one has lost his or her sanity,_"a young voice piped up once more, in a matter-of-fact tone, albeit with a pinch of restrained laughter.

Diana snarled and looked back, at the clumps of purple around the tables. "_Aren't you ever sick of reading others' thoughts, you useless bitch?_" _One more word,_ she told herself_, one more word before I personally pay a visit to her table and wring her thin little neck._

Yiqa paused for a moment_. "Touché," _she commented before snapping the link shut_._ Half of Diana wanted to sprint over and throttle her, and the other half wanted to finish the greens, covered in Ionian traditional sauces. Letting the matter go, she moodily picked up her fork again and stabbed angrily at the lettuce, as if blaming the innocent green leaf for all her troubles. Her excessive force caused the brown sauce to splatter out of the saucer, but she no longer cared. _To hell with this mess. To hell with this psychotic place. To hell with the League. I'm leaving - soon._ Smashing the lettuce repeatedly into the saucer, which almost ran out of the spice, she chewed with vigor, working her jaws up and down. Clenching, releasing, clenching, releasing. It was not long before she gave out a yelp of pain, bringing her drifted thoughts back to shore. Spitting out a wad of saliva onto the carved oblong stone table, she was a little disgusted, but mostly annoyed to find that the bubbles were tainted with crimson oozing out from her tongue. Wiping the rim of her mouth clumsily on her sleeve, she got to her sore, worn feet.

As if on cue, a loud clanging sound rang out behind her. She snapped her head around instinctively, her two months' worth of battling against one another forcing her to learn the hard way. For a moment, she had to squint in the dazzling yellow light that she was looking at, three tables to the back of her. The moment passed, and she already knew who it was before she could make out the figure behind the strong yellow glow. With another mighty clang, she placed her shield, adorned with silver and gold, onto the gilded chair beside her, next to her iron sword that ran the breadth of the table. Clutching her plate with some difficulty in her gauntleted hands, she set it down roughly and huffed loudly. With a shriek of metal on metal, she sat down, still donning her full body armor. Only then did she raise her head and her chocolate-brown eyes met Diana's grey ones. The latter's narrowed in extreme dislike. The library of her memories opened up, and unwilling as she was, the memories flooded back to her, engulfing her.

_With her right hand cupped, she stuck her hand into the puddle of water and withdrew it, pouring the water into her parched mouth. The sandpaper sensation on her tongue went away as soon as the taste of rust invaded her tongue, but she was too tired to care about the lack of clean water. Her hands flopped weakly on the floor, cuts and sores lining her palm as she ran her fingers lightly, for the hundredth time, across the floor, in search for non-existent crumbs of her last meal, long ago. Ticking the days off, she had been in here for three full days now, having been thrown into this hellhole in the middle of the night. This place was as good as her second home._

_Morning arrived despite her unwillingness. The first ray of sunlight broke through the hills on the east, long golden fingers warming everything within its reach. The tiniest slit in the wall shone with light, and Diana couldn't help but involuntarily flinch. She crawled closer to the corner, away from the beam of sun, appearing almost tangible in the impenetrable darkness of the cell, burning everything in its wake. Shutting her exhausted eyelids, she let her body fall limp, rocks gouging into her back. _

_An eternity later, her eyes flew open at the rustling sound of boots on gravel. The beam of light resolved into a patch on the stone floor. Her body coiled, tensed up, ready to spring. The golden puddle on the floor was momentarily blotted out by a small shadow on the outside, and her heart lodged in her throat in anticipation. A small grunt, and long fingers reached into the orifice, venturing in, feeling the inside of the rock. A pair of lips on a fair face appeared, pressed close to the slit, moving in synchronization._

_"Diana?"_

_At the sound of her name, she bounded forward with the remainder of her energy, nails digging into the rock in desperation. "Yes, it's me," she whispered back, completely relieved, as the breath she didn't know she held finally exited her lungs. The shadow relaxed, her jaw loosened noticeably, and after a while, a pair of deep-set hazel eyes came to meet the tortured, sunken blue-grey ones. The figure's hair, a darker shade of brown streaked with amber, was tied neatly in a ponytail that was flicked to the front. It was a far cry from Diana's frazzled, dry hair, with most of its jet black colour drained out to reveal streaked grey locks._

_Moving slightly backwards, the figure's full face came into view. Her shoulders were slightly heaving, and her cheeks were flushed red as if they had been dabbed gently with rouge. Her lips pulled back in a small smile. Diana tried to return it, but her facial muscles were stiff and permitted her to only form her mouth into a grimace._

_"You came for me," Diana croaked, with a note of extreme appreciation in her voice._

_"Of course I did," Leona said bracingly. "As I should've," she added quietly. After a while, she dropped the pretense of acting the role of caring elder sister, and Diana could see more of the friend she knew. Leona's hard eyes softened into pools of hazel against white, exuding concern. "Again?" she murmured sadly, eyes downcast, shadows gathering on the front of her face. Diana nodded weakly in confirmation._

_"I wish I could tell you it's all right, but I really can't bring myself to," Leona said. "But," she added, "I have something with me now that could hopefully cheer you up." Her face dropped out of sight for a few moments, and Diana pressed into the orifice, yearning for freedom, to break out of this prison, to run away from this murky, dark place with her friend. As much as she wished for it to be true, she knew that these were just dreams, wishes that would never be fulfilled. She would not be let go so easily. In the face of her eyes couldn't help but water once more, not only from the blinding sun._

_Leona reappeared, and Diana hastily backed away from the crack, hand wiping away the tear tracks streaking her face. Motioning for Diana to come closer, she withdrew something from the satchel in her right hand. Her left delved into the crack once more, dropping the object into Diana's palm. With the limited illumination, she observed the item in her hands. It was round, and broke easily at Diana's touch. Holding it under the light, she realized that it was a cookie that she held in her hands. She stared blankly at the food in her hands, wondering if this were all a dream. Was she getting delusional from hunger?_

_"It's not going to put itself into your mouth, you know," Leona said, her voice containing a hint of laughter in it. When Diana got past the fact that it was indeed not a dream, she kicked into action. She swallowed the cookie whole, not even bothering to waste a little time to chew. Her stomach, having been empty for two days, growled noisily as this morsel of food entered it. No sooner did she the last bits of cookie left her mouth did her pang of hunger return to strike her at full force. She reeled backwards, as her stomach churned crazily, wanting more. Having loss her self-restraint, it was all Leona could do to not pour the whole bag of food into her gaping mouth. As Diana shoveled the food into her mouth indiscriminately, she could hear a soft sound escaping Leona's lips. It was a sad sigh._

Diana cleared her thoughts. She was still standing, frozen, staring at what used to be her friend. Was it her mind playing tricks on her, or did Leona utter the exact same sigh? She could not be sure, and she couldn't care less at any rate. Taking a last glance at her melancholy face, she whirled towards the doors. There were other things to attend to.

Her boots clanked down the stone steps as she marched past the double doors leading into the League, towards the grand foyer. Taking a left turn, her hair swerved behind her in grey locks, reflecting light from the torches hung in brackets all over the walls. Barely looking at the words hanging on the oak doors in front of her, she pushed them open roughly, stepping into the administrative area of the League.

For such a small doorway, the administrative department looked deceptively big. As far as she could see, there were rows and rows of cubicles, where no doubt summoners were huddling in, sorting out paperwork. She was pleased to see that only one clerk, dressed in a light shade of azure embroidered with silver linings, was hunched over at the front desk. Usually, if there were more than a couple of administrative staff at the tables, or so she heard, they would make a big mess out of everything. _The 'efficiency' of the League_, she sneered_. _Approaching the counter, she rapped smartly on the pinewood table top, causing the clerk to literally leap out of his slumped position on the table piled high with paperwork.

"I'm so very sorry, I won't ever dare to do it again- oh." Looking up, he realized that it wasn't his supervisor looking daggers at him, but a champion, fingers tapping on the table randomly, waiting with what seemed like impatience. Smoothing out the front of his robes, he answered in a slightly wavering voice, "League Admin. What can I do for you?"

"I'd like to leave the League for a short period of time."

"You-you want t-to quit?" The clerk stuttered, fearing what his supervisor would say. Ah, did he wish that sometimes his supervisor would come face-to-face with these champions in person rather than sit behind her desk all day and read paperwork. _Paperwork._ He sneered under his breath.

"Didn't I say I was going to leave for a _short period of time?_" Diana snarled, unable to hide her impatience at this dimwitted rookie anymore. _He doesn't even look like he's met a champion before. _

The clerk froze under the gaze of her two cold, merciless grey crystals. "B-b-but the t-thing is that y-you c-can't-"

Diana cut across him. "I can't leave? And why would that be so?"

The clerk quailed, the colour draining out of his face. "B-b-because-"

Diana had enough of his stupidity: her irritation peaked and evolved into anger. In one sweeping move, she yanked the clerk right through the desk as if it wasn't there. She dropped the scythe and with her other free hand, grabbed a tuft of his hair and forced his head back against the countertop.

"Why-can't-I-leave," she growled softly, venom dripping from each syllable.

But before the frightened clerk could do more than open his mouth aimlessly, there was a soft click of high heels, and a face poked out from one of the aisles.

"Is there a problem?" A familiar voice drawled from the shadows. The voice was soon followed by a tiny figure. Dressed in navy blue embroidered with silver robes, with her hood thrown behind her head to reveal hair of finest black, came a bone-thin woman, her face gaunt and sunken. Upon looking at Diana holding the clerk in an aggressive position, she smiled gently, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, my dear." Diana had barely enough time to puzzle over what she meant before all of a sudden, her hands felt as if they had been thrust into a blazing furnace. She gave a yelp of shock and flung her hands back from the clerk, who slumped to the floor, whimpering.

"Oh, get up, Lawrence. We have visitors here." Turning to Diana once more, her look of irritation wiped off her face. "How may I help you, dearest Diana?"

Diana, blowing on her burnt fingers, looked up and responded. "I wish to leave the League for a while."

"And why so?" The reply was cool, composed.

Diana chewed on this for a while. "Personal reasons," she finally responded.

"Personal reasons. Hmm." She put a finger to temple in thought, and then withdrew it with a slight crease between her eyebrows accompanied with a frown tugging at her bright pink lips.

"I'm sorry, dear, but as much as I would like to, I cannot entertain that request of yours. The League laws state that-" she waved her hand in the air and a book appeared with a pop, falling neatly into her hands, "-in Section 9, sub-section C, that _champions, before playing a total of three hundred matches or playing for three months (whichever comes first), are not allowed to leave the League for any reasons whatsoever._"She closed the book with an air of finality. Dust motes spun in the air as she looked up to face Diana once more.

And Diana suddenly figured out the voice. She was the renowned announcer in every League match. Considering that she didn't already have a sore throat voicing every single match, her voice must have been recorded. What was she doing here? Was she a person of such high ranking, a plain announcer?

"No. I need to leave now." She slammed her fist onto the counter top, emphasizing her point.

Her warm demeanor melted away to reveal her frosty character. "Then," she said sikily, a menace stirring in her voice, "we have a problem." Her icy blue-eyed stare met Diana's staunch, obstinate grey one. After what felt like eternity, she relented, dropping her gaze, coming as a surprised to Diana herself. She didn't expect her to be stared down at so easily; she must have conditions. "Well…" she let the sentence hang.

"Well?" Diana didn't like what was coming next, but she pressed on.

"Well, there have been certain exceptions to this rule, even within this relatively short era of the League's formation," she said, and the tome fell into her hands once more. Flipping lazily, she recited in her prim announcer's voice, "such as, in Section 9, sub-section C, paragraph 3, that_ 'one may be excused from the abovementioned rule in the following cases, as listed below but not limited to; war, famine, unauthorized conflict, et cetera as so deemed by the authority of a Level 7 or higher._"Ticking the factors off her digits, she looked up, and gave another one of her frosty, plastered smiles.

"Your request will be processed in 3 days. There is a high chance, however, that your request will not-"

Her voice drowned out as Diana's world exploded into hues of blue.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:** I realised I haven't been doing author's notes for the other chapters. Sorry about that.

This story hasn't died yet. Yet. It's just that I've been busy, so I'm sorry for tose who are reading and following this fanfiction :/

Rate and review please. Enjoy!

Falling, falling, flailing in the darkness. Limbs wildly grasping at air. A soft splash as her back landed on something fluid.

Sinking, sinking, sinking. Floating in darkness, with her eyelids closed. Her hands drifting around listlessly, twisting into odd positions.

All of a sudden, her eyelids were forced open. She could see a vague, hazy figure in front of her. She focused not on the figure, but the light behind her. The blue light was bright, and it blinded her. All she could see now was the light – the figure had disappeared. Visions of blue surrounded her. She closed her eyes, blocking out the light.

Instantly, her eyelids snapped open. She breathed heavily as she came to. She lay on the floor, nauseous for the second time in a few hours. Wiped out, her eyes rolled in her sockets before she could steady them. Opening her eyes, she found herself staring into a pair of blue, watery irises. Blearily, she rubbed at her blurry vision, trying to clear it.

"All right, I will-" the announcer started, but she never got any further than that before someone strode in between her and Diana.

Suddenly, she felt a slender pair of hands yanking her up with a surprisingly rough force. holding her up by the scruff of her neck, pulling her into an upright position with a grunt. She tried to open her mouth, to tell the pair of hands to stop shaking her, but her mouth refused to cooperate, lying slack on her jaw. Her horizon made a few alarming lurches before steadying itself, and it was all she could do to prevent her dinner from regurgitating into a puddle on the floor. Sick, she tried to steady herself on her legs, but at that moment, her world started spinning out of control, and she collapsed flat onto the ground. The last of her energy spent, her eyelids drooped, bringing her into unconsciousness. She heard a sound of irritation, before silence followed it. The last she saw was a swish of red hair and a couple of sharp daggers that looked dangerously familiar.

It was a long time before Diana came to. She felt her boots being dragged along the uneven stone floor, rising and falling with the crests and dips. One hand was around her neck, dragging her along. Her own hands lay limply by her sides, dangling weakly. She took a deep breath to clear her rapidly burgeoning migraine, and smelled an unknown, sweet fragrance of soft luscious hair. Clutching her hands into fists, she opened her eyes, grabbed a hank of red hair, and pulled.

"OUCH!" The voice was laced with hurt, followed by anger. She could feel the body trembling against her frame.

A sharp _thwack_ to the forehead with what felt like a slab of granite, and Diana went out cold again.

She was surrounded by the colourful fish once more. They swam playfully around her, looping around her arms, sliding beneath her calves, across her torso. Their beautiful scales shone brightly in the light of the morning sun. It was at this time that she realized that she was underwater, and she couldn't breathe. The water closed in around her, and so did the clammy coldness of the open sea. Hands clutching her throat, she gasped for air. All of a sudden, a scaly figure emerged gracefully right in front of her, and as she struggled, yearning desperately for the oxygen her lungs craved, the figure held up its staff, whirling it, her back facing Diana. A stream of bubbles encircled her body, whirling around her.

"Wake up, idiot." The voice came from the figure. After the moment of surprise passed, she suddenly realized that she could breathe underwater. All of a sudden, the figure turned into shadow and raised its staff.

"I said, wake up!" The figure smacked its staff against Diana's left cheek, sending her reeling backwards.

Diana woke up with a jolt. She was lying on the floor once more, hands over her throat in a chokehold, left cheek throbbing slightly. She turned her head on her aching neck slightly, and saw a figure clutching a knife in each hand, with her palm to a door. _My door_, Diana thought as she stood up, testing her feet.

_Wait. Knives?_

"Get your ass here, stupid. I need you to open this door- ARGH!" Katarina's words were interrupted by a streak of purple light and a loud crackly _zap_. The hall was momentarily bathed in brightest pink.

Diana watched, unsure, as she was flung back away from the door, landing in a heap on the wall opposite. Angrily, she sucked at her thumb, pushing herself up. The faint smell of singed skin and hair filled the corridor as Katarina advanced on Diana, who kept her ground. Apparently, the League's anti-theft devices still worked on her battered door, gouged with deep knife marks.

"Didn't I tell you to come here, bitch?" Katarina bared her teeth, shaking with fury. "Is it so hard to get through that thick skull of yours even after I slapped you?"

Diana's palm rose to her red, blotchy cheek. "_You – _slapped me?" She made an aggressive move with her other hand, grappling at something in the air.

"It's over there, dumbass." Katarina plucked a dagger from one of her various secret pockets and threw it behind her. There was a clanging noise of metal against metal as her dagger hit her scythe, laid against the frame of the door. Making a rude hand gesture at Katarina along with a few choice swear words, Diana strode past her, grabbing her own scythe. Slamming her palm on the door, it opened with a soft click.

She barely placed a foot past the threshold when she was yanked in the opposite direction, the door flying away from her. Stumbling back into the corridor, her face came within inches from Katarina's. Her red hair seemed to outline her smoldering blue eyes. Diana tightened the grip on her scythe.

"What – did - you – say – to – me?" Katarina said in a sweet falsetto, her blades swinging in front of Diana like a pendulum. Diana, sensing the calm before the storm, knew it was best to keep her mouth shut. As if on cue, Katarina's calm façade snapped. She threw Diana, still slightly weak and dizzy, on the floor. Her shoulder throbbed along with her cheek, from the direct impact. The scythe flew out of her hands, onto the floor.

"Restraint stopped me from cutting your face into bits the last time," said Katarina as she kneeled onto Diana's knees, effectively pinning her down. She poised her gleaming blades over Diana's whitened, grim face. Combing a stray lock of hair behind her ear with the tip of her knife, she continued. "Restraint _won't_ stop me this time now," she uttered ruthlessly, her blades outlining Diana's jaw, passing by the hollow under her neck. The blades felt ice-cold on her skin. She shuddered, but not only from the cold.

"Forgotten what I've said this afternoon, have you?" Katarina drawled, a tiger taking its time before it strikes lethally. "Couldn't remember that, just now, I was the one who actually _helped YOU?_" She landed a smack on her other cheek, which started twitching. Katarina yanked at Diana's shirt collar, and twisted her neck upwards, placing a blade on her throat.

"This makes a good surface to carve on," Katarina exclaimed sarcastically.

Diana, ignoring this with the best of her poker faces, made no apparent reaction to this. Her right hand softly crawled across the stone floor, inching towards the scythe lying next to her, having fallen on its side. Just as her fingers touched the metal handle, Katarina smirked, and she knew what was going to happen before it came. Just as she was about to remove her hands, a dagger came flying downwards, landing neatly between the gap of her middle and index finger. Katarina actually waggled her finger, resting Diana's head on the floor once more. She didn't dare to move her own fingers an inch.

"For such an allegedly violent person, I have artistic talents too, you know. How about we start giving your… forehead an extreme makeover?" Katarina intoned in a singsong voice, clearly enjoying herself at the expense of Diana's fear. She raised the blade high above her head, and plunged it downwards with an expression of utmost glee. Diana shut her eyes, preparing her wrecked body for the piercing and the pain.

At the last moment, the blue light burst forth, shrouding her body, as if wanting to shield her. Diana's eyeballs rolled upwards into her head, and she tasted bile at the back of her tongue. She heard a long, drawn-out scream before she blacked out for the third time in a day.

Diana awoke, staring at a blank, dark patch of wall. Her back was finally not on hard rock, but on her soft and springy bed. Gazing at her ceiling, she realized that her bedside lamp was on, casting a dark blue light on the whole room. Propping herself up on her elbows, she saw the Sinister Blades reclining lazily on a couch beside the window, eyes half-closed, looking blankly out the tinted windows. As Diana leaned her body on the headboard, Katarina opened her eyes hurriedly, before closing them, her head lolling backwards. For once, the assassin looked tired. There were dark circles under her eyes that were obvious even under the lack of light. Her thin, light frame looked beaten.

_A hell of a day_, she thought.

The silence hung in between them for a long time. Katarina finally woke up, stretching, energetic as ever. The deadly look in her eyes was gone, replaced by passiveness. A shadow of care flitted across her face, before she replaced it with her usual stoic mask.

Katarina made her way to Diana's bed, where she was trying to stand up. The rush of nausea erupted again, this time with a pounding headache to match. She figured it would be best to remain where she was. Plunking herself on the bed, Katarina cozied herself on the other end of the mattress, fiddling with the curtains. Silence plagued them once more.

Diana had to make the first move to shatter it. "So, what happened?" she questioned tentatively.

Katarina plunged into the story with vigour. "I was just behind you, wanting to submit some paperwork to the administration, when blue light hit me in the face as I opened the door. Through the light, though, I could still figures vaguely. I saw one figure slumped on the floor, another one with her eyes over her face-" (_The scared clerk and the announcer_, Diana thought)"-and I saw – you- lying on the floor, your forehead glowing light blue. And you were murmuring something, I wasn't sure what it was…" She trailed off.

Diana must have appeared puzzled, because Katarina continued, "Yeah, your forehead was just emitting strobes of blue light. Of all the times I've see your silly bitchy face, that never appeared before," she added, looking at Diana.

"And it looked all weird too, like, uhm…" She reached her hand over her belt, withdrawing another dagger. Without hesitation, she bent down and carved a shape in the carpet. Ignoring the scandalized looks Diana was throwing her, she spoke calmly, "The mark on your forehead turned all – spiky. The crescent was gone, and-" Katarina rose up again, placing the dagger on the bedside chest-of-drawers.

Diana, having gotten past how Katarina expresses her thoughts best, crawled to the edge of the bed, looking down at the rough diagram she carved on the carpet. A perfect circle was carved into it, surrounded with spiky-looking shards pointing in all directions but downwards. As she took a closer look, the shards appeared to be slightly wavy.

She returned her gaze to Katarina. "What happened after that?"

Katarina's eyes glazed over, remembering the moment. "Well, you know what happened, didn't you?"

Diana shook her head.

"The glow only lasted about ten seconds. When it was over, we were still all frozen there, until you woke up. Announcer Herbrinksy-" (_So that's her name?_ ) "- walked up to you, giving a rather … uhm … _fearful_ look. And I tried to help you up, but you fell flat on the ground instead, and I didn't dare to touch you. After a minute or so, Herbrinsky wrote something on a slip of paper as I tried to help you up. She stuffed it into my pocket as I carried you back – give me a moment," she said as she rummaged in her pockets, withdrawing more ornate knives before taking out a scrap of rolled-up parchment, handing it to Diana. On it, written with lilac ink in perfect manuscript handwriting, were the words:

**_The League Administrative committee has reviewed your case. The committee, despite the fact that you have competed for 38 days and have played 183 matches which does not meet either requirements, will make an exception for leave-taking, as stated in Section 9 Clause a sub-clause c, based on circumstances as judged by the authority of a Level 7 and above. The committee now only requires you to complete 200 matches as opposed to the previous pre-requisite of 300 matches._**

**_Yours truly,_**

**_LoLAS(Ex) Anne Herbrinsky, Level 10_**

Diana felt herself heaving a huge sigh of relief. She was surprised that Herbrinsky would allow her to leave, but all the same, she wouldn't be the one objecting to it. She flipped the parchment over and read the post-script:

**_P.S.: Considering that I am a Level 10, I have the ability to talk around the rules. Dispose of this parchment once you are done reading it._**

Now Katarina was the one being inquisitive. "You're leaving the League?"

Under Diana's hard stare, she wilted a little. "Yes, I read your note." Looking up with her usual defiant eyes, she said, "She chucked it into my hands after all, you know. I didn't read the full note, but I saw something about leave-taking…"

Diana's forehead lighted up. Her energy returned in a rush, and so did her fury. What she was angry about, she did not know; perhaps it was about Katarina helping her, perhaps it was about Katarina infringing her privacy. All she knew was that she had to release her pent-up anger. She had to fight. Turning to Katarina, she growled. Katarina went back to the couch by the window, wary of Diana.

In a flash, Diana appeared behind the couch, her scythe looped around her target's throat. "So," Diana sneered, lips pressed to Katarina's ear, her voice turning cold as the Freljord winter, "what were you saying back there about carving on my forehead?" She flexed her other hand, ready for the inevitable fight.

"Are you insane?!"

Katarina was, of course, not going to stand for being bested that way. It was a few seconds later that Diana realized her scythe was grabbing air. She felt a cold blade pressed to her throat again. A voice whispered in her ear. "Yeah, I said that. Got a problem with that? It's still not too late to showcase my skills, you know." Diana could feel Katarina repressing her anger, and decided to provoke her further. Diana, in a slick, fluid gesture, twisted the knife out of Katarina's fingers and threw it out of the open window.

It was the Sinister Blade's turn to feel scandalized.

Diana turned around to face her. Their foreheads met, and they leaned against one another, shooting daggers from their eyes.

"This ends here. Now," Diana said, raising her scythe. As she plunged the scythe downwards, Katarina disappeared in a puff of smoke, re-appearing beside the chest-of-drawers. She placed the daggers back into her jacket one by one, never breaking her gaze from Diana. For a few seconds, both of them stood poised, fists clenched over their weapons in an aggressive stance.

Then it started.

Diana cleaved the scythe onto the Ionian carpet, sending out a bright crescent in front of her. Katarina neatly sidestepped it in a flash of red hair. Throwing a blade at Diana, she appeared behind her to pluck it out of her armor, while whirling her blades around her, attempting to break skin. Diana instinctively activated her shield, and she watched as the pale orbs slammed into Katarina's chest, sending her flying backwards, dazed. Diana took the opportunity to cleave her with the scythe, but at the last moment, Katarina raised her blade and blocked the lethal blow. She leapt upwards, landing right in front of Diana. One hand driving her straight to the wall and pinning her there, Katarina executed her final move without a hitch: the Death Lotus. As she twirled, her head became a blur of red. Daggers were flying out of nowhere, missing her flesh by millimeters as they sunk into the wall. The daggers sliced through her armor as if it were rice paper, pinning them to the wall, effectively immobilizing her. Flawlessly, Katarina landed on her own two feet, her hair falling behind her shoulders, her body free of hidden daggers. She unsheathed one shiny blade from her back, holding it against Diana's throat once more.

"You're right. This ends here and now," she said. Wresting the scythe out of her grip, she threw it onto the bed. Diana was now left completely defenceless, but her face was still masked by bravado. She met Katarina's stare.

The blue eyes Strangely, Katarina backed off. Diana clearly did not expect that to happen._ Why isn't she releasing her wrath on me? What's holding her back?_

"End this," Diana said, goading her into action.

"If you wish for it, I won't hesitate to," the reply came. Katarina raised her sword high above her head. Diana closed her eyes, but the expected blow did not come. She opened her eyes to see her sheathing her sword with a sharp _clink_.

"Why?" The word escaped her lips before she could control it. She was upset, confused. Wasn't she so keen on attacking her just now? Why was Katarina hanging back? When she had the chance, why didn't she act out aggressively? Katarina remained passive. Her ramrod straight body hunched, her fury spent, as she plucked out the daggers that pierced Diana's armor.

She placed her daggers back into their hiding places. "Pfft. You really think I would have killed you? Here? In the heart of this politically heated arena? I don't think so."

"If I wanted to kill you, I would have already," she said over her shoulder as she walked out of the room. Unexpectedly, she twirled around, and in a glint of steel, a dagger sunk deep into the circle of her breastplate, the force of it knocking her backwards.

"A reminder. Don't cross paths with me _ever_ again." With that, she turned left and vanished in a puff of smoke.

Diana watched her go. Calmly, she plucked the blade out of her armor. Throwing in onto the bedside table, she let her body fall on the enticing comfortable sheets. Her skin, hot to the touch, felt the coolness of the sheets. She let her eyelids close. Breathing out heavily through her nose, she turned to her side and relaxed her nerves.

As she felt herself drifting off, a sudden thought struck her. Moving lazily, she reached out her hands and ran them over the carpet. There it was, the incision.

Seemingly at her thoughts, the relics in the room shone brighter fourfold. The walls of the room glowed a ghostly shade of white. Leaning down, she could now see the shape clearly. Her depiction of the image was circular in shape. Sharp uneven jagged lines ran along the sides of the circle.

She frowned, and sighed.

The Nexus drew one last ragged, dying breath. The air was warm and thrumming with the raw power of magic. Suddenly, the vibrating crystal hovering above the pedestal turned a shade of jet black, crisscrossed with cracks, crumbling into shards. For a split second, the air was still. Unknowingly, with an explosive force, the shards blew themselves apart with a loud bang. Glitter showered the stony floor.

**"Victory!"** The announcer's voice rattled through every inch of Summoners' Rift.

Diana knelt down slowly, exhausted. Her face was peppered with drops of blood and sweat. Her muscles and joints were aching, throbbing in time to her furiously pounding heart. Lifting her head up, she swept strands of white fringe away from her face and sucked in deep breaths, willing her heart to pump at a slower rate. She smelled something bloody and the faint stench of perspiration.

**"Returning in 60 seconds…"**

Diana pushed herself up on her scythe, coated with a fine layer of dried, crusted blood. A cool breeze swept through the Field as it darkens. A layer of blue dust settled on her skin. The motes of dust gathered along her arms, on her hair, swirling like a sandstorm around her armour.

**"1."**

The dust motes slowly ascended in a spiral motion, and she felt herself being dragging along. Eyes overcome by the blue light, she felt her feet lift off from the ground. A sudden head rush, and she landed on her two feet once more.

The harsh neon lights slowly powered off to a soothing green glow. The spectators filed out of the stands, the excitement over. Unnoticed by anyone, she went to a niche in the hall. She leaned against the wall, her frame sagging with exhaustion. It had definitely been a strenous day. All she longed for was to get back to her room and black out, in blissful oblivion. Instead, the tiny voice in her heart told her to stay where she was.

_"What makes you think it's even going to come? Hmm?" _

Her body moved against the wall with a grinding sound of metal against stone. She sat on the floor, huddled under a stone pillar, and hoped for the best. She hoped they hadn't forgetten, hoped against hope that they would keep their promise. One by one, the hall was emptied, until she and her scythe were left. She dipped her head, trying to hide to herself the waves of disappointement that washed over her.

_"He's not going to come, is he, now?"_

As if on cue, a sharp creak and a bang responded to her very thoughts. The doors were thrown open, and beams of light cast long shadows on the floor. She rose to her feet, squinting at the silhouette in the doorframe. Tightening the grip on her scythe, she took unwary steps towards the dark, hooded figure.

The figure turned out to be the same administrative clerk she met almost 3 weeks ago.

_"So they haven't forgotten. I told you so."_

_"_I have a message from you, from Level 10 Herbrinsky. You are hereby released to go._"_

The oak wooden doors slammed shut behind her. The two night guards at the side of each door snapped to attention, giving a crisp salute. She slung her scythe over her shoulder, a small satchel of necessities attached to it.

After all the long wait … she was finally free.


End file.
